5 Times Merlin Ran Into Someone
by Aireon Maris
Summary: ...and one time it really counted.
1. Washer Woman

I had just finished the laundry, hadn't I? Of course it had to be then. I was just heading back to the palace when he went barreling across the courtyard paying no mind to where he was going and knocked the basket right out of my hands. All my clean linens went all over the cobblestones. I had a right notion to give the boy a piece of my mind. And I would have, if he hadn't been scrambling frantically to gather up all the bedsheets, apologizing like his life depended on it.

"I am so sorry, ma'am," he kept saying, over and over. He stood there blinking at me, arms full of linens, and I couldn't help but laugh. The poor thing, he had no idea the sight he looked, all flushed and his dark hair sticking everywhere. He really was a good-looking thing, too, bright blue eyes and a pretty smile.

"O-oh?" he said, completely confused.

"Lord bless you, boy," I told him. "I know how it is with you young folk. Always in a hurry. Come now, hand those over. You haven't done too much damage. I'll get them folded again."

"I really am sorry," he said again, dumping the sheets back into my basket. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Tell me your name, boy," I said. "I don't think I've seen you around here before."

"I'm Merlin," he replied, giving me that lovely smile again. "I'm Arthur's new manservant."

I pursed my lips. "Well. You've got your work cut out for you and no mistake. Arthur's a good prince, but..."

"But he's a good prince," Merlin finished for me, still grinning.

I had to laugh again. "Clever clogs, eh? Well, good luck to you, Merlin. I suppose I'll see you again."

"Hopefully not like this," he added quickly.

I flapped my hands at him. "Be off with you, lad."

He really was a beautiful boy.


	2. Knight's Sister

I never wanted to go to Camelot. Father made me because he thought Roger would need accompaniment. I was sure he'd done it on purpose; he knew how much I hated traveling. But there I was anyway, in Castle bloody Camelot for another one of Roger's precious tournaments. I hated tournaments. Just a bunch of men prancing around waving swords. So I thought I might as well entertain myself by exploring the castle.

I'd just managed to avoid the guards and a couple of servants, found a torch, and ventured into the unlit passages deep within the castle when I was knocked right off my feet.

"Oh, oh God, I'm so sorry...er, my lady."

I looked up and this lanky, dark-haired bloke was standing over me, holding a torch of his own. By his clothing it was obvious he was a servant. "What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, doing my best to imitate my mother's haughty glare.

"I, er, was getting, I mean I was..." he trailed off helplessly, staring at me for a moment with a pair of very blue eyes. Then he abruptly stuck out his hand. "I'm very sorry for knocking you down, my lady."

It was hard to keep glaring, both because I was terrified he'd call me out and because he _was_ rather handsome...for a serving boy. I took his hand and let him pull me up. "Well, you're lucky I wasn't hurt," I told him.

"Yes," he said, glancing curiously at the unlit torch I'd dropped. "Were you lost, my lady?"

I grasped at that instantly. "Yes, I am. Could you show me back to the towers?"

The serving boy frowned. "Weren't you at the tournament, my lady?"

Perhaps my scowl was a bit petulant at that moment, I won't ever tell. "Yes," I said with a sigh. "I suppose I was."

He blinked at me in surprise. "You don't want to watch the tournament?" he asked. "But I thought all the ladies liked watching the knights."

"Not if one of them is your brother and he thinks he's God's gift to knighthood," I said angrily, and covered my slip by putting my hands on my hips crossly. "Anyways, why do you care?"

He laughed. "Oh, no, I agree with you. Wholeheartedly. But it doesn't matter much."

His suddenly annoyed expression drew a startled laugh from me. "No, it doesn't does it?"

His eyes twinkled at me. "May I escort you back to your rooms, my lady?"

"You may," I replied, pleased at his manners. "And what is your name, my good sir?"

He offered me his arm. "Merlin. I'm called Merlin."


	3. Orphan

The apples went rolling everywhere and I was left holding the empty basket. I tried hard, but the tears still welled up in my eyes despite myself. I stood there glaring at the red fruit now lying scattered in the mud. As if my day hadn't been terrible enough already.

"Are you all right?" asked a voice at my elbow. I jumped and looked up. He was standing right beside me, clutching a bucket now only half-full of water. The rest of it was spilled down his front but he didn't seem to notice. "I didn't mean to run into you, I'm so sorry. Were you hurt?"

"No," I snapped, and tried to reign in my temper. It really wasn't his fault. I stooped to pick up the nearest apple. The bucket hit the ground with a clank and then he was on his knees in the mud, scrabbling to collect as many of the wayward apples as he could.

"Gaius is always saying I need to look where I'm going," the boy went on. "Always running about, you know. One of these days I'm going to hurt someone." He snatched up the last apple and put it safely in my basket, getting back to his feet. "All good?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He peered at me shrewdly. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked again.

"I'm fine," I said, too quickly. "It's just—" I cut myself off before I said too much.

"It's all right, you can tell me," he said earnestly. "Maybe I could help."

Father always taught us not to trust to the kindness of strangers, but I had been far short of kindness that day and his face was just so open. "It's my sister," I blurted. "She's ill and nothing I do helps. It's just us and my brother now that Da has passed on." The tears came again and I glared at my basket to hide them. "She wanted apples. Money's tight so we don't get many treats, but I'd saved up a few pence and..."

His hand closed over mine on the basket handle. They were slim and strong and very warm. "I know the palace physician. I'll ask him to come look at your sister."

My eyes flew up to his face, hope flaring in my chest for the first time in so long. "Really?" I hardly dared to believe him. He smiled at me, and it made his whole face light up.

"Really," he assured me. "Just tell me where you live."

"In the lower town, by the blacksmith's," I told him.

His smile brightened. "Oh, then you know Gwen!"

"Yes," I said, surprised.

"I'm Merlin," he told me. "And Gwen's a friend of mine. Go home to your sister, and Gaius and I'll be along as soon as we can. I promise."

This time I couldn't keep the tears from overflowing. "Thank you," I whispered.

He patted my hand. "Helping people is what I do."


	4. Herbalist

Of all places to get knocked off your feet by a boy, the middle of the forest is not one you'd expect. But I was still laying flat on my back in the bracken, staring up at the green leaves above me. I might have said something rude, but since Gran wasn't there, I'm not admitting anything.

That's when a face appeared above me, lean and pale-skinned with the bluest eyes I've ever seen. "I am so sorry," he said contritely. "I didn't even see you there."

"Well, that's sort of the point," I told him crossly, and stuck out my hand. "Help me up."

He obliged, proving himself stronger than his lanky frame would have you believe. I brushed myself off and looked around for my satchel.

"Is this yours?" he asked, holding out my leather bag. I snatched it from his hand.

"What are you even doing out here?" I demanded. "We're miles away from the nearest village."

"Oh, I'm out hunting," he said with obvious forced cheer. I eyed him shrewdly. He wasn't even carrying a slingshot. He caught the direction of my gaze. "Oh, no, not me. My master. Who I've seemed to have misplaced." He looked around the forest pensively. Then he shrugged. "Forests really aren't my thing."

"Obviously not," I said, slinging my satchel over my shoulder. "You're looking for the hunting party with the prince and his knights?"

He looked surprised. "Yes, how'd you know?"

"I narrowly avoided them about a mile northwest," I told him. "They trampled all over my rosemary."

"I'll make sure to scold them for that," he said seriously.

I snorted. "Try that an you'll get the stocks. If you're lucky."

"Ah yes," he said, turning wistful. "The stocks and I are good fellows. The times we've had together."

I couldn't help but chuckle at that. "You've got a mouth on you and no mistake. The prince puts up with that?"

"Oh, he'd be lost without me," the boy replied with a smug little grin.

"Well, at the moment it's the other way 'round," I retorted. "So you'd better get moving if you want to catch up with him."

"Right, yes," he said, startling like a young deer. He started to dash off into the woods before suddenly stopping and turning back toward me. "I'm Merlin, by the way."

"Rhian," I told him.

He gave me a blinding grin. "Good to meet you." And then he was off.


	5. Witch

It'd taken all my concentration and half the morning brew up the potions for the potatoes. Grandmother would have been horrified that I was using my magical heritage for something as mundane as making sure the rot didn't take the garden, but I was always the practical one in the family. Witches still had to eat the same as any folk and besides, magic-users like myself weren't called upon much these days in Albion.

I filled up two gourds with the potion and was carrying them across to the garden patch when he appeared out from the corner of the cottage and fell nearly right at my feet. The potions would have gone flying and all my work wasted had I not gasped a command more on instinct than anything else. The gourds hung in the air for a moment before I snatched them again.

"How did you do that?" the boy on the ground demanded.

"Do what?" I said, frantic. Had he seen me? Would he tell the guard? I'd have to leave as soon as he went to fetch them, and I'd just started to make a home for myself here.

"Did you use an incantation or did you just think it?"

I blinked down at him. He wasn't as young as I first thought, actually probably only a few years younger than myself. He lay on his back in the grass, staring up at me with excited, blue eyes. "You did use magic, though didn't you?" he went on. "That's brilliant! I thought I was the only one around here."

The breath rushed out of my lungs and I gaped at him foolishly for a long moment. "You're a witch, too?" I asked in disbelief. "No, of course you're not, how silly of me. But you can use magic?"

"I can," he confirmed. "All my life." He scrambled to his feet and thrust out his hand. "I'm Merlin. How do you do?"

"Ingrid, quite well, thank you," I said breathlessly, taking his hand. "What—no, how—?" I couldn't put words to all my questions. Merlin looked around, taking in my cottage, the garden plot, the chicken hut, all nestled at the edge of the forest.

"You live alone out here?" he asked.

"It's safer," I said softly.

His expression went sad. "Ah. I see."

I laughed a little. "Well, Merlin, people don't generally stumble upon me by accident. Was there something you needed?"

He brightened. "Yes. My master and I were traveling this way and we were hoping you had a well. We've run out of water and there's no stream nearby."

"Your master?" I echoed. "Another sorcerer?"

"No, Prince Arthur, actually," Merlin replied wryly.

I stared at him. "You serve Prince Arthur." He nodded. "You're a sorcerer, and you serve Prince Arthur." He nodded again, glumly this time. "That cannot be easy."

"You have no idea," he said with a sigh.

I shook myself. "I do have a well. It's over there, just beyond the little wall. You're welcome to it, and gladly."

He perked up again, grinning quite brilliantly. "Thank you! We're much obliged." That's when I realized he was carrying two water skins. He set off in that direction and spun around back on his heel. "Ingrid, would you mind if I came visited you again sometime? I feel we might have a lot to talk about."

I smiled at him. "You're welcome back anytime, Merlin."


	6. Arthur

"Arthur!" I heard my name just before he crashed into me, driving us both to the wet, muddy ground. The beast stooped low where I had been standing, claws flashing out. I wrestled away from my manservant and regained my feet, tracking the monster as it climbed back into the knight sky, shrieking as it went.

"Damn it, Merlin, I had it set to rights!" I burst out, annoyed. There was no reply. I turned to look for my clumsy, annoying, no-account servant, and found him lying on his side, mud smeared over his too-pale face, clutching at his side while red, red blood welled up between his fingers. "Merlin!" I lunged toward him, but he cried out in warning and I spun around just in time to see the creature swooping at me again.

I was angry, now, and had no time for games. Cocking back my arm, I flung my sword with all my strength. It flew true, burying itself halfway into the beast's chest and sending it crashing to earth. Then I turned back to Merlin.

He was trying hard to keep silent. I could see it in the way his jaw was locked. He tried to protest when I pulled his hand out of the way but there was no denying me. The wound was deep, but not life-threatening. "Merlin, it never ceases to amaze me just hoe much trouble you are," I said crossly, trying to mask how worried I'd been.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, sire," he gritted out.

I tore the hood from cloak to wad up against the wound. "Hold that there. I'll get the horses." The idiot was trying to stand when I got back, and I had to catch him before he fell over. It was awkward, keeping him on his feet with one hand and tying his horse's reigns to my saddle with the other, but I managed it. Getting him up onto my horse was painful for both of us. I tried not to let him know I heard his tiny sounds of pain, nor how each one tore at my chest. Merlin was hurt because of me..._again._

I mounted behind him, pinning him against my chest with one arm and taking the reigns up with the other hand. "Gaius is going to be furious with me," I muttered. "He always is when I break you."

Merlin chuckled weakly. "He can't get angry with you."

"Maybe not to my face, but he makes his displeasure known," I retorted, kicking my horse to a trot. Merlin hissed in pain, so I slowed us down to a walk. It would take us hours to get back to Camelot, but if it meant Merlin was more comfortable, I wasn't going to complain.

"I'll be fine, you know, Arthur," Merlin whispered, his head resting back against my shoulder.

"You say that every time," I replied tightly. He did. Every time he threw himself in harm's way to defend me. _I'll be fine, Arthur. I'm all right, Arthur. Don't worry about me, Arthur._

"Well, I'm always right." Merlin's voice was getting softer and weaker by the minute. I glanced down to check his wound and found the makeshift bandage already soaked. I cursed under my breath and kicked the horse into a canter. Merlin groaned but I didn't have a choice. I had to get him back to Gaius as soon as possible.

"You are without a doubt the most stupid servant I've ever had, Merlin," I told him angrily. "No one has ever caused me this much worry for their well-being. I swear it's as if you're _trying_ to get yourself killed."

When he didn't reply, I looked down at him, alarmed, but his eyes were open, staring out at the passing trees, and a faint smile on his lips. Oh, yes, Merlin was going to be fine.

But I might not be.


End file.
